


Seheron's Trial

by Jamjam494



Series: Seheron's Chronicle [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventures in Seheron, Angst, Backstory, Bull Has two eyes!!!, Fog Warriors, Freaky I know, Humor, M/M, Prequel, crazy tal-vashoth magic, kinda BAMF Dorian, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamjam494/pseuds/Jamjam494
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Seheron's Aftermath. Covers Dorian and Bull's meeting as enemies, their getting lost as enemies, and them maybe not being so much with the enemies. Because how could they not like each other? They're adorable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seheron's Trial

Dorian couldn't help but be excited. After two year in Seheron he was finally being given command. Not because he was a Pavus, or because he was a Magister's son, but because he'd earned it. He'd proven his worth, shown his excellence battle after battle, and left a cold and bloody trail in his wake. He didn't care who his enemies were; Tal-Vashoth, fog warriors, local rebels, or Qunari. He cut them down with ease, and more often than not made a show of it. Call him obnoxious, but it wasn't a _rule_ that war had to be ugly. 

 

He stood proud as he attended his naming ceremony. No longer was he Atlus Dorian Pavus. Now he was General Dorian Pavus, leader of the Tevinter forces in Seheron. The only way his day could get better was if his father had been able to attend. Sadly Magister Pavus was held up with Imperium business, something about a ball for the Archon to celebrate the recent war victory. Dorian quashed the disappointment that stirred in his gut. It was enough to know that his father was proud. After all, that was the reason he'd joined the fight. Pavus had always expected great things of him, had pushed him to be as great as he could be.  _Always bring our house Honor, Dorian_ he'd say whenever his son struggled with a spell or neglected his studies. 

 

And Dorian had taken the words to heart. He'd pushed himself to exhaustion to be the best mage, best  _son_ , that he could be.  _You never will be_ , a traitorous voice whispered in his head,  _not if he figures out what you are. Not if he figures out your secret_ . 

 

Dorian stiffened. No, he wouldn't go down that road. He'd been hiding for years now, he could keep it buried if it meant making Halward proud. He wouldn't force his father to witness his deviance. In that respect his new appointment made it easier to hide. He was expected to lead and fight and command, what time would he have for sneaking about like an urchin?

 

He put on a false smile as the Divine Father finished his speech.  _Kaffas_ , had he been in his own head that long? No, he couldn't have... could he? He forced himself to pay attention as the man turned to face him.

 

“Have you any words, General Pavus?”

 

Shit. “Yes,” he replied too quickly. He cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. “You have appointed me as General despite my age and what some would call 'lack of experience'. But I've fought with you, cut down the oxmen beside you, helped you to your feet when you were knocked down. I promise I will try my best not to fail you, and I promise to make Tevinter proud.”

 

He was grateful when the cheering started. That meant drinking. He was good at that.

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad considered himself a patient man. He really did. Patience allowed you to get your desired result without screwing it up by rushing. That's what his Tama had always said, and she was never wrong, so he abandoned the reckless self he'd been as an Imekari and adopted the virtue with fervor.

 

But these past two months had certainly tested his resolve. Some fucking  _kid_ had taken over the 'Vint army and the bastard was gaining ground on them. If the man's youth wasn't enough it turned out he was some preppy Magister's son. 

 

The worst part by far was how Hissrad's plans seemed to fall apart if they got too close to the kid. No matter how many Qunari he sent they all seemed to change when they got near him. Some became mindless beasts filled with rage, while others stopped fighting altogether and just tried to fuck the boy. The few who came back however made note that if they remained calm they only felt a nagging presence in their minds, a suggestion, but nothing more. So whatever effect the kid had on his men it could be contained. This was good news considering they had no idea what caused it and as such had no way to counter it. Hissrad felt safe in his assumption that it was demons; that or blood magic.

 

But he'd find out for himself tomorrow. That day a villager had approached his camp with a note, for  _Hissing Rod's eyes only_ . He ignored the insult and read the note, silently praising his Tama for making sure he knew common tongue. Apparently 'General Pavus' wished to see the best the Qunari could offer, and had challenged Hissrad to a one on one fight. He couldn't help but grin. If the 'Vint wanted to die, who was Hissrad to stop him?

 

\-- -

 

Dorian stood calmly as he he waited for his opponent, taking a moment to enjoy the beach. It was peaceful, quiet in comparison to the cities. Maker's breath he hated the cities. All chaos and screaming and explosions of gaatlock and fire magic. At first he'd enjoyed it, loved it for how different it was. But as time passed he began to see the horror for what it was. And so, when he became General one of his first orders were provide extra relief for the citizens. It wasn't their fault the Qun and Tevinter were at war.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps. A quick look told him his opponent had arrived. His jaw nearly dropped as he took in the approaching man. He knew Qunari were larger built than humans, and he seen his share, but this man was  _breathtaking._ Pure muscle stretched the gray skin over his arms, and oh  _Vehendis_ that chest! It was solid, and powerful, every muscle toned and carved to perfection. Dorian found he didn't even mind the scars. If anything they were a benefit, made him look rugged, and Dorian imagined running his hands all the way down, ghosting over each one until...

 

“You going to stare all day or we going to fight?”

 

The blunt question broke whatever spell he'd been under and he cleared his throat. “Yes, right, my apologies. I am General Dorian Pavus, and you must be Hissing Rod.”

 

“It's Hissrad,” was growled in response. Hissrad? Well, this was embarrassing.

 

“Oh,” Dorian said dumbly, and for a second the Qunari seemed to look as awkward and he felt.

 

“You actually thought my name as Hissing Rod?” the Qunari asked. Dorian had the decency to flush.

 

“Again, my apologies,” he answered. “I mean no disrespect. Though I thought the Qunari didn't have names?”

 

“We don't,” was the simple reply. “Now I'll ask again, are we going to fight or what?”

 

Dorian summoned his ice claws in response, while the man opposite him called his own transparent red ones. A frost step later and they clashed, claws locking together. Dorian smirked, this would be a good fight. So of course the Tal-Vashoth had to choose that moment to jump from the nearby brush with a strange glow in his hands.

\-- -

 

Hissrad was impressed. He didn't deny it, didn't even try. It would have been stupid to deny a fighter's skill. But this kid... he'd never seen anything of the like, and he'd killed his fair share of saarebas. Bas and Qun alike. The kid (Dorian, he remembered) had completely ignored Hissrad when they emerged from whatever spell the Tal-Vashoth had cast and turned his back to him. Noticing they weren't alone, Hissrad had done the same, but kept an eye on him regardless.

 

The fight had been odd. The Tal-Vashoth seemed to be ignoring him completely (only the non-Qunari attacking him) and had immediately charged at Dorian. _Just like the other Qunari that get near him_ , he thought grimly. He dispatched his own attackers effortlessly and turned to watch the pretty little bas-saarebas go down. Unfortunately he didn't.

 

Hissrad stood transfixed as the man weaved through his attackers using some ice magic thing, leaving a cold and bloody trail behind him. Nine men had attacked him, and the mage had simply cut through them like they were paper, never once stopping the magic that carried him. He was graceful about it though, almost like he were putting on a show. _Typical 'Vint_ , Hissrad thought with a snort, but when the man stopped moving long enough to meet his eye the true intention of the display was revealed. The little shit wasn't just being dramatic, he was showing Hissrad just how strong he was. And Hissrad was indeed impressed. He'd never seen a 'Vint take on a group of Qunari before, and it was absolutely shocking to see how easy the man made it look.

 

As soon as the last one went down Hissrad noticed an immediate change in Dorian. Gone was the fighter, and in his place stood an angry youth, eyes narrowed and hands on his hips.

 

“Would it have killed you to help?” he spat.

 

Hissrad snorted. “Why? If they killed you it would have just saved me the trouble.” He narrowed his eyes at the mage. “And besides, it's not _my_ fault all the Tal-Vashoth went for you.”

 

“No, but you do realize had they killed me they would have returned to their senses and taken you down with me, don't you?” the mage replied. One of Hissrad's ears twitched.

 

“Returned to their senses?” he mused. “Interesting choice of words.”

 

Dorian snorted in response. “As if you didn't already know that I affect your kind.” The kid suddenly lost any anger and he blinked owlishly. “Where in the Void are we anyway?”

 

The question struck Hissrad. Why hadn't he considered that? It should have been the first thing he noticed, but instead his attention had been occupied by the mage. V _ashedan_ , he cursed to himself. Apparently staying calm didn't make you completely immune to whatever it was the bas-saarebas did to fuck with their senses.

 

He looked around carefully and took in the surroundings. They were currently standing in a small camp set up in a clearing. He could hear water crashing against rocks, and their was a forest in the opposite direction of the water. He took a moment to skim his memory, and he almost snapped when he figured it out.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“What?” Dorian asked, not expecting the curse.

 

“We're on the other fucking side of the island,” Hissrad growled.

 

“Maker's balls are you serious?” Dorian shrieked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

\-- -

 

Dorian was never an outdoors kind of person. In fact, he hated it. It was wet, there was a chill from the autumn air, and to top it all off he was stuck with a Ben-Hassrath. They might have negotiated a temporary cease-fire, but Dorian wouldn't dare trust the ox. He was however curious as to how the man seemed to remain completely calm around him. Any other Qunari went into a frenzy and tried to kill him or fuck him, chosen seemingly at random. This one though, this _Hissrad_ , simply made rude comments and went on his merry way, as if he couldn't smell Dorian at all.

 

And for some reason this annoyed him. It wasn't so much the rudeness, he expected that much from a Qunari, but to be completely ignored? That just wouldn't do. Something needed to be done.

 

He got his chance when they stopped for the night. Hissrad had set up camp near a small spring, in a secluded little patch of forest that provided decent enough protection. Dorian had stuck his staff in the ground and announced he was bathing, and that the ox was free to do as he wished.

 

Luckily the spring was close enough that he could still be seen from where the Qunari was sitting. He took his time peeling out of his clothes, taking extra care to bend and stretch. He always made an art out of undressing, even though he'd never done the act for anyone but himself. Stepping into the water was a different matter however. He gingerly touched a toe to the surface and recoiled instantly. _Kaffas_ that was cold, and while Dorian may favor ice magic, he wanted cold nowhere near his bath water. Taking a breath he put his toe in again, pushing a surge of heat through his body. When he could no longer feel the chill he became more brave, slinking his way into the spring. He smiled when they water around him started steaming; magic was such a wonderful thing.

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad couldn't tear his eyes away as the tiny mage made his way into the spring. Fuck, the man was gorgeous. Golden skin covered every inch of his body, and _vashedan_ that ass. It was perfect; mostly muscle with just enough fat to give the slightest bounce with each step the mage took. It was almost maddening watching the man sink deeper into the water knowing that every step took away his view. He could feel his cock harden inside his trousers and gave it a soft squeeze. It didn't help that he'd been hard since they clashed. He'd severely underestimated the reports on the pretty bastard's _thing_ , whatever the fuck it was. He honestly wasn't sure if he was grateful for or pissed at the Tal-Vashoth that had transported them. And worse, he was sure if they'd been left alone he'd have ended up fucking the pretty 'Vint to a begging mess... and he couldn't deny he still wanted to.

 

He kept his thoughts to himself as the evening passed. He would have been content to sit there with his fantasies until a noise caused him to look. The 'Vint was stepping out of the water, and Hissrad had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his jaw still. Water was dripping languidly down the man's body, and the tiny bit of sun that remained set his body aglow. The skin that was already gold now shined a brilliant hue, and Hissrad's blood boiled at the sight. He heard a low growling noise and it took him some seconds to realize it was coming from him. Apparently the 'Vint had noticed, if his heated stare and smirk were any indication. But Hissrad didn't break his gaze, to do so would admit defeat. Instead he relaxed further, leaning more of his weight into the tree and spreading his legs slightly. If the pretty thing wanted to play games then so could he, and he _would_ win.

 

Surprisingly the 'Vint knew how to play. Hissrad watched as the water on his skin turned to steam and he effortlessly reached down to pick up his clothes. And damn if the man didn't look as good getting dressed as he did undressing. But during the whole performance their eyes had never once broken contact. Once the mage was dressed he strutted over and pulled his staff from the ground. A moment later he was mirroring Hissrad's position, sitting fluidly against a tree, legs slightly spread.

 

“See something you like, Qunari?” the mage mused.

 

“Do you?” Hissrad countered. He didn't expect the blush he got in response. However as soon as it had appeared it was gone, and the smirk was back in place.

 

“Your people might be savages, but you'll never hear me say you aren't built splendidly,” Dorian purred, but as soon as the words left his face became stony and he shifted his eyes to anywhere but at Hissrad.

 

Hissrad knew the game was over, he just wasn't sure why it bothered him. The feeling didn't leave him as he fell into a light sleep.

 

\-- -

 

Dorian cursed to himself as they continued their trek the next day. Kaffas, how could he be so stupid as to give himself away? If this beast knew then his army would know when they returned, and they would happily spread the information if it meant getting rid of their biggest threat. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran through his as he imagined his father finding out. He'd hidden his aberration for years, never once giving in to a desire. Yes he looked when he knew it was safe, but he'd never acted on any desires. Even the desire demon he'd met during his harrowing had met his blade. It had been smart though, disguising itself as a massive Qunari, dark green in complexion and muscles for days. It had shaken him how easily the thing could read him, so ended the thing before it ruined him.

 

His companion however showed no sign of smugness. In fact if not for the heated looks sent his way occasionally he'd swear the Qunari forgot the prior night completely. Said looks confused him a great deal? Why would the man look at him so? Didn't he know the acts his eyes promised were deviant, something to be refused?

 

The day passed fairly quickly, and they kept up a decent pace. This evening it seemed they were settling in a spot similar to the last one, minus the spring. Hissrad had made quick work skinning the... thing they'd caught while Dorian had conjured up a fire. It amused him to no end when they Qunari stared warily at the flame for a few minutes, and he couldn't stop the chuckle. He received a glare in response and he could have sworn he heard something about 'dirty 'Vints not needing to eat'. Dorian had simply responded by reminding him that he had helped catch it.

 

The meal had been fairly quiet, and Dorian hoped the rest of the night would be the same. Naturally the ox had to speak.

 

“So what happened last night?” was the simple question. Dorian looked across the fire with a guarded expression.

 

“You saw fit to spread your deviance, what else?” he spat. The Qunari had the gall to look confused.

 

“Deviance? What was deviant about last night?” Dorian had to admit the man was a good actor.

 

“We are two men,” he hissed. “ _That_ is the deviance you stupid ox!”

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad was baffled. Two men? That was the problem?

 

“That makes no sense,” he stated. “If the idea disgusts you why did you put on that show?”

 

“I don't know what you mean.” Dorian responded with a blush.

 

“Yes you do,” Hissrad shot back calmly. “When you stripped you made sure to show off every inch of that pretty little body. You wanted me to see, and when you got out of the water you looked me dead in the eye. What I don't understand is why you shut down. Care to explain?”

 

The 'Vint was blushing now, and Hissrad noted that the hint of red suited his skin. The only sound for minutes was the chirping of bugs until he heard a faint 'because it's wrong'.

 

“Why is it wrong, little 'Vint?” he asked.

 

“Because two men can produce no heir.” was the mumbled reply.

 

“And that's important why?” Hissrad asked, not bothering to keep the confusion out of his voice. This had apparently pissed the mage off as his eyes shot up to meet Hissrad's.

 

“I am the only heir to House Pavus. If I have no heir then the family name dies with me! And I will not dishonor my father by doing so,” he hissed.

 

Well shit. Now Hissrad just felt bad for the kid. “So the whole 'breeding the perfect mage' thing is true then?”

 

Dorian laughed bitterly. “You have no idea, ox.”

 

“See that doesn't make sense to me. What happens if a kid doesn't show any magic?” Hissrad asked.

 

“From what I can gather they usually disappear altogether,” Dorian replied. Hissrad was glad the man seemed as unsettled by the answer as he was.

 

“That's fucked up,” Hissrad said with a grimace. “So I gather the same thing happens if the child doesn't _appreciate_ the opposite sex?”

 

Dorian furrowed his brow, and Hissrad couldn't stop the small grin at how cute he looked when he was thinking.

 

“It depends,” was the mage's reply. “I've heard rumors of some blood rituals meant to change a person's preferences, but those same rumors also tell of the victim usually ending up as a drooling vegetable.”

 

Hissrad shuddered. Fucking blood magic. As if it wasn't bad enough that 'Vints bred only for power. No, they had to go and fuck with anyone who didn't fit the plan. Of course. Fucking Tevinter.

 

“You know it doesn't work that in the Qun.”

 

Dorian raised a brow. “Really?”

 

“Really.” Hissrad replied. “It doesn't matter who you have sex with as long as it doesn't get in the way of your job, as long as it doesn't disrupt your purpose. Who would have guessed the Qunari were more civilized than you 'Vints, huh?” he finished with a chuckle. “Anyway, we should get some sleep. We'll be entering Tal-Vashoth territory tomorrow and I don't want you dying because you didn't get enough sleep. You'll die by my hands when we get back and fight.”

 

He ignored the slight churning in his guts at the mention of the mage dying. It was probably just the meat.

 

\-- -

 

Dorian thanked whatever Gods were listening the next day as they followed the Tal-Vashoth back to their camp. They'd been more than lucky when the man didn't attack them right away, and even luckier when he believed Hissrad's story. The Ben-Hassrath had spun a story about him fleeing the Qun and getting his 'pretty little bas-saarebas' out with him, and the Vashoth had eaten it up. Dorian suppressed his chuckle. Apparently leaving the Qun turned you into an absolute moron. But if the fool was willing to feed and give them shelter for the night than who was he to complain?

 

The camp was fairly plain, consisting of a few tents hear the fire, and a stream being visible nearby. The Tal-Vashoth seemed perfectly as he introduced them to his elven lover, a small built man who had the look of a former slave about him. Vehendis, this wouldn't end well he thought.

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad was irritated. He blamed the 'Vint and his stupid smell for not noticing the Tal-Vashoth. Then he'd been forced to spin some stupid story about him leaving the Qun with some bas-saarebas he had a thing for. And to top it all off he couldn't think of a damn reason not to accept the man's invitation to his camp without seeming suspicious. So here they were sat around a fire, three groups of unknowing enemies sharing a meal and chatting like it was an average day.

 

“So,” he asked, hoping he sounded casual, “What made you leave the Qun?”

 

“Him,” the Vashoth replied with a fond look to his lover. He wrapped an arm around the man's waist before looking back to Hissrad. “We were both stationed here a few years back. I was your run of the mill soldier and he was a magister's slave. We were fighting when these fog warriors attacked us and the two of us ended up getting separated from the rest. We spent the next few days lost and arguing. See he wanted to get back to his master and I wanted to get back to my group. But after a while we just ended up getting more lost. So we set up camp one evening there was so much tension in the air. We ended up having angry sex, and ever since we've lived here, trying to avoid any of the fighting.”

 

“But don't you feel lost without the Qun to guide you?” Hissrad asked, hoping he came off as sympathetic. From Dorian's glare he imagined he failed. The Vashoth though simply gave him a gentle smile.

 

“For a while I did. But then one day it hit me. My life wasn't actually that different being Vashoth than it was under the Qun. I still get up and eat, make sure we're safe, clean up, fight if it's needed; same as under the Qun. And as for feeling lost, I just found a new purpose. Now my life is about keeping Lavellan happy, even if he drives me nuts sometimes.”

 

Now Hissrad was uncomfortable. He wanted to kill the man (Adaar, he remembered) and call him a traitor to his people... but was he? The Qun still functioned just fine without him, and he wasn't wrong when he said the lives weren't that different. But the thing that shook Hissrad was how _happy_ he looked. He seemed perfectly content with the elf by his side, like the only things that mattered in the world were each other. Was it possible they really _were_ better without the Qun? No, he thought harshly. The Qun was necessary to keep their nature in check. He ignored the whisper of _is it?_ in his mind as he cleared his throat.

 

“So, what was that you said about washed up booze?” He really needed a drink.

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad was drunk. He thought he was anyway. It had been a while. But being drunk was a bad thing... he thought it was anyway. He was too drunk to know anymore. He sluggishly made his way to the ten Adaar and Lavellan had offered them for the night, but stopped when he pulled the flap open. There was Dorian, on his back and snoring softly, and Bull let loose a quiet groan. That sweet spicy scent that constantly clung to the mage hit him full force. When he felt his cock harden he didn't hesitate to unbuckle his trousers and crawl inside the tent.

 

He didn't bother to see if said trousers made it into the tent with him as he gently straddled the sleeping man. He instantly moved to bury his face in the mage's neck, and was more than pleased when the smell got stronger. He slowly ran his tongue up the pulse point and was pleased when a breathy little moan escaped the man under him. Oh yes, he thought with a grin, this was going to be fun.

 

\-- -

 

Dorian was by no means a heavy sleeper. His position rarely afford him more than five hours of sleep a night, and so he'd grown into the habit of rising when needed. But a low purr and a tongue on his neck? That one was new. His surprise made him attempt to jump up, but he found his hands were currently stretched behind his head. When the licking stopped (and did it really have to?) he opened his eyes and found Hissrad's face inches from his own.

 

“Tell me you want this.” The Qunari said with a rumble, and Dorian shivered. Did he want this? He'd grown up believing this was wrong, that it was deviant and should be hidden. As if reading his mind Hissrad spoke again. “No one's going to find out. It's just you and me, little saarebas. Now tell me you want this.”

 

Dorian swallowed. He wanted to respond but his throat just wouldn't work. After a moment of silence he managed a frantic nod, ignoring the tears that suddenly threatened to spill. A weak moan followed when the larger man's mouth resumed the assault on his neck.

 

“Gorgeous little mage, aren't you?” Hissrad whispered. “Going to fuck you sloppy, shoot my seed to far in you it'll be dripping out for days. Would you like that? To carry my seed in you like a good little bitch?”

 

Dorian could only moan when the man's cock ground against his own trapped erection. “Please!” He begged. Apparently Hissrad had gotten the message and lifted himself off the mage. Dorian had gone to move his hands but a swift look caused him to still. The Qunari smiled, and Dorian blushed as he was able to take in the man's cock. His eyes widened. Maker the man was huge! And he expected that to fit inside Dorian?

 

His eyes followed the cock as Hissrad grabbed the waistband of his small-clothes. A second later they were gone, completely tugged down. Dorian couldn't help the hysteric giggle as Hissrad fell back from the force. They were both laughing when the man finally got back into position over Dorian. The Qunari wasted no time plastering his mouth to Dorian's, tongue diving in. But almost as soon as it started he'd retreated, and Dorian would have protested, but the hands rolling him onto his stomach took his breath away. He took that breath back with a gasp when he felt something wet lick up the cleft of his ass. He blushed furiously.

 

\-- -

 

They spent the next three days with Adaar and Lavellan. Hissrad wasn't sure what to think of that time, but he knew it had to end. When they woke up on that fourth day Hissrad untangled the mage from his chest (much as he loathed to) and gently shook his awake. Dorian stirred instantly and looked up from his chest.

 

“Are we under attack?” he asked, wiping a hand over his eyes.

 

“No,” was Hissrad's simple response. “But we can't stay here any longer.” He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach evoked by the resigned sigh he heard.

 

“I know.”

 

Hissrad gently ran his hands through Dorian's hair. “We have to kill them.”

 

“I know. Maker knows I hate that I know, but I do.”

 

“We need a plan.”

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad stretched loudly as he exited the tent. He casually made his way to the fire, and made sure to sit next to Adaar. The other Qunari greeted him warmly, and Hissrad was getting way too good at ignoring those knots in his stomach.

 

“Hey Lavellan,” he asked, “Can you go see if Dorian's stirred yet?” He gave the elf a dirty grin. “I might have worn him out last night.”

 

“We know,” Lavellan replied with a smirk. He watched as the elf made his way into the tent before he turned to Adaar.

 

“Nothing personal,” he said with an eerie calm. Adaar furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a muffled scream. The Qunari jumped up with a frantic 'Lavellan!' but Hissrad was quicker. It only took him a second to get his hands on the man's head, and the Vashoth dropped with a loud snap. Hissrad didn't bother to move, simply resumed sitting.

 

Less than a minute later Dorian sat beside him and neither man spoke for what seemed like an age before the 'Vint swallowed.

 

“If we ever find another camp like this we politely ignore it.”

 

Hissrad nodded in reply. “Let's salvage what we can and take off. We shouldn't waste daylight.”

 

\-- -

 

Dorian was quiet for the next week. He refused to speak to Hissrad, and for a second he almost thought the Qunari missed the company. But Dorian wouldn't respond. Every time he thought about speaking his mind returned to the camp. He was positive he'd never forget the look in Lavellan's eyes, that raw pain and betrayal. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He hadn't lied when he told Hissrad he understood that they had to die but it certainly didn't make it any easier to do and watch. The only solace he ould take from the event was when they were leaving. He'd carried Lavellan's body over to Adaar, laid the two next to each other and clasped their hands together before setting them both ablaze. It was the least he could do.

 

Eventually they came to a stop and set up camp. Dorian had set both tents across from each other and quickly started a fire. He watched blankly as the ox prepared their meal, _paid for with blood_ his mind supplied. They ate in silence, and Dorian hoped the rest of the night would be the same, but apparently Hissrad refused to let him have even that.

 

“Dorian,” the larger man started. “You said you understood why they needed to die.”

 

Dorian snapped his head up and looked the Qunari in the eyes. “I do understand,” he hissed. “That doesn't mean I have to like it.”

 

“But why does it upset you?”

 

“Why?!” Dorian almost shrieked. “They were perfectly innocent people who had nor wanted anything to do with our war! And they certainly didn't deserve to die simply because we stumbled upon them!”

 

Hissrad's confusion turned to anger and he glared at the mage. “Adaar was a Tal-Vashoth,” he growled. “Those who betray the Qun are to be put to death.”

 

Dorian was vaguely aware of the air around them becoming cold, but didn't give it a thought. “Oh yes,” he sneered. “Maker forbid the man should want to think for himself! How fucking _dare_ he!”

 

“Don't act like you know anything about the Qun, Bas-Saarebas!” the Qunari rumbled angrily.

 

“I know plenty about the Qun,” Dorian shot back. “I know that you lot love to hate us for keeping slaves when you do the exact same thing! I'll never deny that my family has slaves, but at least Tevinter allows a slave to keep their damned minds!” His own glare quickly turned to a mocking smirk. “Oh, you don't like being a slave? Well, can't have that can we? Let's just drug you up with qamek until you forget that silly notion of free thought, yes?”

 

He ignored the thunderous look on the ox's face as he continued. “And let's not forget the ridiculous fear of magic! Never mind the fact that magic is as evil as a sword, no, you lot downright abuse your mages to the point of sewing their mouths shut!”

 

Neither man noticed the fog that was slowly enshrouding their camp.

 

“You Qunari like to think you're so bloody efferent and civilized, and it's so fucking sad. Because the simple truth is you're all just a bunch of scared little cowards that need to be put down like the beasts you are!”

 

He was prepared when Hissrad jumped up and summoned his reaver claws. He'd had the magic thrumming in his fingertips since he'd killed Lavellan, and having it take shape was second nature to him. He was preparing a mine when he realized he could barely see the ox through the fog. Wait, fog?

 

Well. Shit.

 

“Fog warriors!” he cried, his mind immediately switching to combat mode. He quickly turned and placed a circle of freezing mines around their camp, ignoring the satisfaction when three went off almost instantly. It did nothing to soothe him however, since for all he knew he'd killed three out a hundred. Fucking fog warriors.

 

\-- -

 

Hissrad cursed himself as he put down a second fog warrior. How the fuck did one tiny but admittedly gorgeous 'Vint keep causing him to fuck up. First when they met and he'd failed to notice the Tal-Vashoth, second when Adaar had surprised him, and now a third time with _fog warriors_ of all things. He knew they were quick in their style but he should have at least smelt the extra moisture in the air.

 

Once he cut down a third man he heard a loud grunt come from behind him. He turned and saw three of the one of them gaining ground against Dorian. The mage was stumbling over every twig and wet blade of grass and the fog warrior was becoming more aggressive by the second. Hissrad wasted no time in rushing over and putting an arm around the smaller man. He'd laugh at the squeak that came from the mage later, but for now he simply pulled him to his chest, turned him away and shoved a glowing red claw at the surprised assassin.

 

When he knew the man was dead he turned his head toward Dorian, only to find one of Dorian's arms outstretched and an icy claw stuck in the guts of another fog warrior. How had he not noticed that one coming at him from behind?

 

Once they were certain there were no more attackers Hissrad turned Dorian to face him. He didn't miss the wince as the man turned.

 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, not recognizing the concern in his voice. The mage glared at him in response.

 

“My foot got caught in a root when you grabbed me. I think it's twisted.”

 

Shit.

 

\-- -

 

Dorian winced as Hissrad set him gently on the ground. They'd barely made any ground at all in the last three days with Dorian's injury. He'd full expected the Qunari to tell him to suck it up after their argument. He'd been surprised however when the larger man had gracefully picked him up bridal style the next day after he'd packed up their camp... and all without a single grumble, growl or complaint. It was weird.

 

He carefully sat near the fire Hissrad had set up. The ox had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't to use magic until he was healed, which was annoying. The bastard might as well have told him not to breathe. That said, he wasn't going to complain. The Qunari had been scarce with his words since the fog warriors, and truth be told Dorian still wasn't sure he wasn't going to wake up on the bad end of a battleaxe. So when a meal was handed to him he took it with a nod of thanks and remained quiet. Sweet Maker this whole awkward silence thing was getting old. At least until he looked up and met Hissrad's eyes.

 

The man looked absolutely lost. And this scared Dorian, considering Ben-Hassrath were trained to be calm under the worst circumstances.

 

“Hissrad?” he asked gently.

 

“We killed them.” was the whispered response.

 

“The fog warriors?” Dorian asked. “Naturally. They didn't give us mu--”

 

“The Tal-Vashoth.” Hissrad cut in.

 

“Adaar and Lavellan,” Dorian supplied softly. His brows furrowed when Hissrad flinched violently. What?

 

“I... I think...” the Qunari hesitated, and Dorian was now officially terrified. “I think I regret it.”

 

“What?” Dorian gasped, unable to keep the shock from his voice.

 

“It was a mistake to kill them,” Hissrad mumbled. “We shouldn't have.”

 

For once in his life Dorian Pavus was speechless. His father told him about his dragon blood, and he didn't hesitate to reply that he always _did_ feel special. He'd been woken by Qun assassins in the middle of the night after a ridiculously long day of combat, and it had taken him less that a second to make a scathing remark about the man's clothes before killing him and going back to sleep. He'd even seen giant lizard fish things jump from the water and devour an entire group of rebels, and his only comment had been that it was _neat_.

 

But this? A Qunari soldier, one of the most ruthless killing machines in Thedas, showing regret? He didn't know what to do with that. A glance at Hissrad's bouncing knee told him the warrior didn't either.

 

“If we're going to have this discussion,” he started, “Perhaps it's best we retire to the tent.” Wordlessly the Qunari nodded, and a minute later he was being gently laid across the bed roll, Hissrad falling next to him.

 

“So,” Dorian said, extending the 'o', “You regret it. Why?”

 

He looked over when he heard Hissrad take in a large breath, and it startled him that the Qunari looked so... defeated.

 

“They weren't hurting anyone. They weren't burning down orphanages, or killing for the fun of it, or running around like fucking animals. They we just existing, taking life one day at a time. The Qun tells us that Tal-Vashoth are savages that need to be put down before they cause chaos, but... but neither one of them were savage. They were perfectly nice people minding their own business, and we killed them.”

 

“When you and Levellan went to sleep that first night I asked Adaar how he could leave the Qun. I figured he'd get mad and try and tear the whole thing down, but he didn't. He just smiled and told me it wasn't something that happened overnight. He'd been having doubts for years about the Qun's structure, and when he found Lavellan he took an opportunity and ran. But what shook me was that he wasn't hateful about it. He said that the Qun worked for some people and didn't for others, and that just because some wanted different didn't mean they were bad people, or monsters. And he wasn't a bad person, and he wasn't a monster. But I snapped his neck anyway, because the Qun demanded it.”

 

“But it wasn't just him. When I saw the fog warrior going for you I panicked. I don't get why, but the thought that you might die scared the shit out of me, and I reacted. I didn't even notice the one behind me, and if not for you he'd have killed me. I completely ignored my training because I thought you were going to get hurt, and that's important, and it fucks with everything I know, but I couldn't ignore it.”

 

“And even before that, when you were tearing down the Qun. You weren't wrong, and that's the part that scares me. I've hunted Tal-Vashoth before and heard the same arguments time and time again, but since we got stranded here it's like they I can suddenly hear the words that were screamed at me. And I can't find a flaw with the logic behind it. The Qun _does_ have those problems, and they bother me now, but only since I met you. Why do they bother me now? Why does the Qun suddenly seem so damn wrong?!”

 

Dorian was frozen. Hissrad was looking at him as if he held all the answers, and Dorian wasn't even sure he could respond. What in the Void did you say to someone whose whole life had just turned upside down.

 

“I...” Dorian could barely get the word out of his mouth. “I don't know.” he whispered gently.

 

He was so far out of his depth right now. He could easily talk a weary soldier back into fighting, but how was supposed to help an enemy who wasn't sure they were enemies anymore? He didn't know if he _could_ help him, and honestly it scared him that he wanted to. He didn't ever want to see the man hurt, and that realization struck him. Suddenly he knew what they both needed, and he carefully rolled over to straddle the Qunari.

 

“I don't know how to help you Hissrad,” he lamented, “But I can help you forget for a few hours.” He smoothed a hand over the Qunari's chest. “I'm sorry I can't do more.”

 

“Thank you for trying though,” was the soft reply, and the matching barely-there smile was worth it. _He_ was worth it.

 

\-- -

 

They'd remained in that spot for a week, and what a week it was. Not a night went by where they didn't sit around the fire and talk about the Qun and Tevinter. Initially Dorian had been reluctant to berate his home, but it turned out a Qunari could do better doe eyes than an actually doe... which was scary considering the man they were coming from. So they'd talked.

 

It wasn't easy. Dorian had confided in Hissrad about his fears of being discovered by his father, and the fear of what his father might do. He didn't tell him about the dragon blood coursing through his veins though, figured their relationship could use some mystery. And after an awkward and incredibly uncomfortable conversation that's what they were calling it. Dorian had admitted he felt more than attraction for the Ben-Hassrath, and Hissrad told him the same. Of course the fact that they were both gorgeous didn't hurt, and they'd shared a laugh or two.

 

They'd been sleeping in the same tent since Hissrad's revelation, and Dorian couldn't bring himself to give a damn what anyone back home would think. Yes, sleeping with a Qunari would have been considered horrendous back home, but he wasn't back home. It was just them, and whatever forest creatures were unfortunate enough to trigger Dorian's protective wards. And that was how he liked it. It got a bit sad whenever their eventual return came up though. Dorian had spouted some ideas about fleeing south and starting a mercenary group. Hissrad had simply laughed and asked him hat the name should be. Dorian had spent a goo hour pondering the name (much to Hissrad's amusement) and had finally decided on Bull's Chargers. When asked why he was rather dramatic in pointing out that Hissrad was practically a bull, what with the horns and, well, his other horn. When asked about the charger bit he simply replied that both of them had a fashion of charging into a fight without wasting time. Hissrad's only comment on the whole thing was to add a _The_ , stating that he liked having an article at the front; made it sound more professional he said. They'd spent that evening pondering who would make up their group. Dorian had pointed out that they needed a 'Vint, after all someone had to be the pretty one, but otherwise whoever met their fancy could join. Turns out neither really held a prejudice against any other race, although Hissrad had been leery of having a mage. Dorian had laughed and called him a buffoon. Hissrad had told him that the only mage he needed as him.

 

This of course sparked a conversation consisting of grunts, thrusts, and moans. Overall it had been a very productive talk.

 

\-- -

 

Four days after the packed up and resumed their journey and Dorian was nervous. He knew that their childish dreams of a life away from duty were just that. Hissrad had set up camp early and they were content to spend the day relaxing. They both knew what was coming, and neither really wanted to face it. Dorian was content to keep forgetting until he couldn't, and Hissrad was still struggling with his place in the Qun. That night, after three hours of tortuously tender sex Dorian could tell something was about to break. He hated being right.

 

“When we make our way back, I'm going back to Par Vollen.”

 

 


End file.
